The Bucket List
by Summertime-Snow
Summary: AU. Sebastian Smythe is an overworked, under-appreciated doctor whose passion to save others is pretty much the only thing that motivates him to drag himself to work everyday. After a promise to help Blaine Anderson, an infuriatingly optimistic patient, tick off items on his bucket list, he finds himself sucked into a whirlwind of events that remind him of the true meaning of life.
1. Prologue

_**The Bucket List**_

_**~PART ONE~**_

Prologue

* * *

_Letting go is the first step to moving on._

_I look through the glass, seeing the frail body lying on the table. Helpless. Small. I feel a strange urge to rush over and cover him, envelope him in a fort of tranquility and shelter, where nothing can ever hurt him ever again._

_In the back of my mind, I know the place I would take him. I had seen it with my own two eyes. After all, he was the one who had showed it to me._

_But it occurs to me that nothing external is attacking; the damage here is internal. The very core of his existence, his own cells turning on him. Destroying and obliterating from the inside out._

_I catch movement. His face turns to mine. I see a word, a single word, form on his pale lips. His eyes, somehow still full of life, communicate a silent message._

_Blood is pounding in my ears and I can't hear. I don't hear the steady beep that should correspond with the flat green line on the monitor. I don't hear, but see the stuttering of that same line that jumps with every touch of the defibrillator to his sunken chest._

_My fingers close around the sheet of paper, flimsy under my touch from having been handled and folded over so many times, the creases in the fibres deep and irreversible. I crush it in my hand._

_I close my eyes._

_"Goodbye."_


	2. Chapter One

_**The Bucket List**_

Chapter One

* * *

Sebastian ran his hand over his face and through his hair, shaking his head and messing up the disheveled locks even further in his attempt to clear his clouded mind.

It was his fifty-second straight hour on shift and he was absolutely exhausted. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, before pressing the decline button when he saw the name and number flashing across the screen.

He brought the mug in his hands to his mouth and tipped his head back, only to have a single drop of cold coffee moisten his parched lips. With a sigh, he stood from the temptingly comfortable arm chair in the corner of the deserted ward to get a refill.

He poked his head out between the double doors to see the hallway thankfully deserted – it was four in the morning, after all- and left the ward, turning his back to shut the double doors noiselessly behind him. They closed with barely a whisper of sound, and satisfied he turned over his shoulder with an almost maniacal, fatigue-driven grin on his face. Damn, he really needed some sleep.

"Argh!" he yelled, jumping backwards in shock. He fumbled and almost dropped his mug, but caught it just before it hit the floor. "Jesus Christ, Lopez. What the fuck are you doing here? You're not even on shift!"

"Actually, Wonderchild, I am. It's half past eight."

_Oh _he thought_ fifty-sixth and a half hour then._

"What?"

_Did he just say that out loud? Oh well. _He cleared his throat and spoke up. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here, JLo?"

The nurse scoffed and rolled her eyes, tossing her dark waves of hair over her shoulder before walking boldly towards him. "To find you, Idiot. When Girl Chang said she hadn't seen you for the past couple of hours I came here -I knew you'd have lost track of time and ended up passed out in some random corner of this godforsaken place. You're always where you're not supposed to be, so obviously this was the first place I checked."

He would typically have some snarky comeback – this banter was their game, but at the moment he was too drained to care. All he knew was that his shift was now over (technically it was over hours ago) and the only thing on his mind was SLEEP. But still, he was Sebastian Smythe and he'd be damned if he were to let Satan end this conversation with the annoying smug look on her face. So he glared back at her with whatever intensity he could muster and narrowed his eyes.

Bad move – he nearly forgot how to reopen his eyelids then and there.

The look on Santana's face morphed, true concern showing beneath the mask of superiority she always seemed to wear. She stepped forward and grabbed hold of her friend's arm, carefully extracting the empty mug from his clammy fingers.

"Okay buddy, I think we should find a place for you to lie down."

"No need…. More coffee…"

"Nope, not gonna work this time, Bud. You need to sleep. You can have coffee when you wake up."

Not bothering to argue, he let the Latina guide him through the halls, barely registering their whereabouts until they reached his rest quarters. Pushing him rather unceremoniously down onto the couch, she barked out a simple order of "sleep", though he was gone before the word had even registered with him.

* * *

The harsh sunlight burning his eyes was the first thing he registered when he woke up. Groaning quietly, he pushed himself upright and blinked to adjust his eyes to the light.

"Morning, Sunshine."

Squinting against the light, he made out the identity of the figure before him. "Ugh. Come on, Quinn. That was cruel."

The blonde chuckled lightly and released the string controlling the blinds, which were now mercilessly open. "Well you, my friend, were snoring like a chainsaw. If I didn't wake you, you would have woken all the patients in this hospital within the next half hour."

He raised an arm, casually flipping her off.

Quinn merely laughed in response. "There we go… He lives!" her tone softened. "Seriously though, your shift started about five minutes ago. I wanted to let you sleep in a little more – I know you've been here since god knows when- but St James is being a bastard as always and with our budget so tight…"

He sighed. "I know. Thank you, Blondie."

"You know," she sat herself down next to him on the couch, wrapping her lab coat tighter around herself "sometimes I wonder why we put ourselves through this dump every single day when the private hospital down the road is willing to pay us thrice as much with better work hours."

"And actually provide their doctors health insurance."

"And real offices."

"And their own bathrooms."

"Especially the bathrooms."

"And sufficient Janitors to clean said bathrooms."

"Yes."

"Then why don't we leave, Q? Why are we still in this cesspool? Almost literally… I think someone made a mess in the third floor bathrooms – don't go in there."

She sighed. "You know why, Sebastian. The people need us. Isn't that why we got into this field in the first place? To make a difference? I'd be willing to say that the people here need us more than those who can afford those snobby assholes in private practice."

Sebastian didn't need to agree for Quinn to know his thoughts were in sync with hers.

"Well," she spoke, breaking the silence "I should head over to the lab, and you, sir, were due at Oncology twelve minutes ago. I signed in for you and forged your signature before I came to wake you, by the way, so you should be good with St James when he does his bloody random checks on the roster."

"Once again, thank you. For watching my back."

"Don't mention it. You deserved a break. No one here works as hard as you do for the patients." She patted his knee and rose, straightening out her scrubs and coat. "Besides, you now owe me one."

"Fair enough."

* * *

A fresh mug of coffee in his hands, Sebastian made his way down the halls of the top floor. Mid-day sunlight streamed cheerily through the windows and he fought to suppress a yawn. He was feeling a great deal better after that much-needed power nap. Santana would be on her lunch break now, so he'd just have to thank her later.

As he strode past the single-patient wards, he heard raised voices ring through the otherwise fairly quiet space.

"Mom, I'm fine. Honestly! I feel alright. Stop worrying."

Two doors away from him, a middle-aged lady ran out, looking frantically around. When her eyes landed on him, she walked forward, stopping him in his tracks.

"Excuse me, Doctor, I'm so sorry to bother you but could you please come take a look at my son? He's just had a minor seizure and lost control of basic motor skills and I think he's in pain-"

"Mom! For Christ's sake, I'm FINE."

"Sure thing, Ma'am." Sebastian placed a comforting arm on the petite woman's forearm. While she breathed a relieved 'thank you', the worried crease between her eyebrows ceased to smooth. "When was your son admitted?"

"Last night, at approximately 10.30."

Sebastian nodded. Now in the ward, he reached for the patient's chart hanging at the foot of the bed. He flipped through it, his sharp eyes scanning and registering all the important details amidst the other currently unnecessary information.

Name: Blaine Anderson.  
Age: Twenty Four  
Date Admitted: 27th March 2010.  
Date Discharged:_  
Reason for Admission: Mild/Moderate seizures; Syncope – Suspected Cardiogenic.  
Significant Previous Medical Records: None

He frowned. The symptoms seemed fairly common, except for the bit about suspected cardiogenic syncope which was more than slightly worrying. He hoped for the possibility of a crossing off that suspicion but some more tests would have to be run for that deduction.

Sebastian raised his eyes to look at the patient for the first time, and his voice caught in his throat.

Dark curls and thick eyebrows, full lips and a straight nose - an intricate fusion of both Asian and European features evident on that one gorgeous face. But what had really stood out to the young doctor were the man's eyes - huge, expressive and framed by long, curly lashes. In the glow of the sunlight streaming through the blinds, the hazel irises glistened like pure molten gold.

He was beautiful.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Doctor. But I'm feeling just fine. Really. My hand just twitched and I accidentally spilt some juice down the front of my shirt. My Mom's just overreacting."

"It's fine, Mr. Anderson. It's my job to look after you." He tucked the chart under his arm and addressed his new patient directly. "So apparently you lost consciousness last night and suffered from mild seizures?"

"Um… kinda. I mean, I don't remember any of it but that's what I've been told."

"Of course. Well, Mr. Anderson, with your permission, I would like to conduct a few tests to try and deduce the cause of them. Syncope and Epilepsy are common symptoms for a large range of ailments and while your chart descriptions don't look serious, I'd like to be safe. Is that alright with you?"

Before the patient could answer, his mother stepped in almost immediately. "Yes, of course. Do all the tests you need."

"Jesus, Mom. It's my body they are going to prod and poke at with various tools. Don't I get a say?" Blaine threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm the one who has to pee in a cup!"

Sebastian bit back the grin that threatened to creep onto his face. As Mrs. Anderson continued to protest with her son, Blaine continued his argument about the inexistence of self-rights these days, mumbling under his breath about 'tubes shoved up my arse'.

"You didn't see yourself last night, Blaine. You scared the living daylights out of me!"

Eventually, Blaine caved and reluctantly agreed when his Mom grew increasingly hysterical and concerned.

"Doctor?"

"Oh right. Yes. Okay, I'll have a nurse come by in a moment to carry out the basics – extract a blood sample to be sent to the lab, ask you some questions about your medical history etcetera etcetera. And we'll probably require a urine sample, or as you so charmingly put it, we'll need you to, ah, pee into a cup."

Blaine blushed, but threw his head back in robust laughter. It was a captivating, infectious laugh and Sebastian found himself grinning. Even Blaine's mother's lips were curled up slightly.

"Sure thing, Doctor. And please, just call me Blaine."

"Will do, Blaine. That reminds me - What was the name of the doctor who admitted you last night?"

Blaine shrugged his shoulders and looked questioningly at his mother.

"Doctor St James, I believe. He had curly brown hair and a rather creepy grin."

Sebastian was confused. Jesse St James was an ass-kissing son of a bitch who avoided interaction with regular patients as much as possible, especially those admitted at night when he mostly just locked himself in his office for a nap, regardless of whether he was on shift or not. Not to mention - the universally-hated Chief of Medicine was pretty much never nice to patients unless they were rich or were of some high social standing, making his 'maniacal grin' when serving the Andersons suspicious to say the least.

Anderson… Sebastian's eyes grew wide. It couldn't be. Then the pieces started fitting together. Jesse fucking St James, of all people, had gone out of his way to serve these people. Sebastian was currently standing in a single ward of the most exclusive, private wing of the hospital, which cost pretty much a phenomenal amount. The levels of upkeep in this wing were significantly better than the rundown, shoddy conditions of the area he had just arrived from, the Anderson wing.

He was currently face to face with the man whose family owned the entire east wing of the Hospital.

When he snapped out of his reverie, he met the curious eyes of Blaine Anderson. "And you are?"

Adorning his signature smirk, he spoke. "Doctor Sebastian Smythe, at your service."


	3. Chapter Two

**The Bucket List**

_Chapter Two_

* * *

It was one of those days at the hospital that Sebastian just knew would be eventful. Some would call it a gut feeling, but being a doctor and all, a 'gut feeling' was probably some intestinal anomaly that he would insist on having checked out.

"Whoa whoa whoa; hold up, Smythe." Sebastian lifted his eyes from the chart he was inspecting and nearly crashed right into Santana "St. Shithead his currently on a rampage down this hallway, so I strongly suggest you redirect your route right now."

"What's he raging about now?" Sebastian questioned with a smirk. "Someone dumped his hair product into a bedpan again? Or did one of the interns mention how he has a poker shoved up his as-"

"SMYTHE!"

The bellow echoed, loud and obnoxious through the sickeningly white hallway. Both nurse and doctor turned to face their pesky Chief of Medicine as he stormed towards them with grimaces plastered on their faces.

"Good evening, Jesse." Sebastian squeezed out through gritted teeth. "To what do I owe the honour?"

His Latina companion, on the other hand, lacked the fake politeness and tact. "What's gotten your panties in a bunch, Mophead?"

Jesse glared at the nurse, his eyes narrowed as a vein throbbed in his temple. "I need to speak to Dr. Smythe. So I'd appreciate if you just hustled off to eat a taco and listen to some Gloria Estefan in that beat up piece of shit you pass off as a car, Senorita."

Sensing that things would soon turn ugly, Sebastian quickly restrained his friend as she began swearing in Spanish. "It's not worth it," he muttered into her ear. "Just go!"

With one final killer glare at the Chief of Medicine, she strutted off, leaving the young doctor to face the full wrath of Jesse St James.

"Records tell me you've taken over one of my patients."

"You've got to be more specific, St James, I've covered a lot of your patients that you couldn't be fucked looking after over the years."

"Don't pull any of that crap, Smythe. You know better than to question how I care for my patients."

"If by 'care', you mean 'neglect', then by all means feel free to award yourself with First Class Honours."

"I'd be careful what I said, if I were you. I've recently been mailed the annual budget report, and let's just say that it doesn't look promising for some of you doctors with attitude problems."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Go ahead, Jesse, threaten my job all you want, but Blaine Anderson is my patient now and that's that. Have a good day playing Tetris in your office whilst doctors like myself and Quinn and Mike actually try to save lives."

* * *

"Okay, come on. Lopez is by far the hottest nurse in this godforsaken place!"

"I don't know, man… I reckon Yvonne's pretty hot too."

"No way, dude! Georgia in paediatrics is deffo the fittest!"

"What do you think, Carson?"

"Huh?" The intern was snapped back to reality by his friends' increasingly agitated voices. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from the desk where his crush was stacking document files to face his floppy-haired best friend and the group of other male interns behind him. "What was the question?"

"We were asking you who you think is the hottest nurse in Midwestern Medical; but obviously that question is not valid on you, since you have spent the entire time staring dreamily at Ava. AGAIN." The others groaned and walked off, one of them proclaiming how they would hit the bar since none of them were on shift the next day.

"Why'd you have to do that, man? Now they all know about me and Ava!" Carson exclaimed, shoving his friend in the shoulder.

Jeremy merely rolled his eyes and smirked. "What about you and Ava?"

Carson bit his lip and stared at the floor, tips of his ears vaguely pink as he muttered something about how "it takes time" and "don't want to scare her off" and "she's out of my league".

Jeremy saw his best friend's insecurities beginning to surface once again. They always seemed to whenever it came to Ava, the pretty medical intern whom Carson had had a crush on since they first stepped foot into the hospital at orientation. Sighing, he patted the curly-haired boy on the shoulder.

"Honestly, dude, man up and ask her out already. I'm not sure how much more of the puppy-dog eyes and longing sighs I can tolerate before I tear my hair out."

"It's not that simple, Jer. I really like this girl."

"Look, man. You're the best guy I know. She's not gonna turn you down. Tell you what – all the interns are headed to the bar; drinks are on me tonight, alright? We'll work this out then."

Carson grinned. "Yeah… That sounds good. It's been a while since the Peanut Butter Bro's hit town, aye?"

"That's more like it!" Jeremy cheered, ruffling the slightly shorter boy's hair.

As the two surgical interns made their way towards the interns' quarters to change out of their scrubs, Jeremy didn't miss the final longing glance that Carson threw over his shoulder at the pixie-haired girl behind the reception desk.

* * *

Quinn weaved through the cheap, brightly coloured plastic chairs in the cafeteria, sliding herself gracefully into the seat opposite her brooding colleague.

"Hey," She began "I heard you got into a brawl with St. James. What's he on about now?"

Sebastian ran the tip of his finger around the edge of his coffee mug, collecting the foam on his finger before licking it off. Taking his time, he emptied in a packet of sugar and stirred the dark liquid, almost as if ignoring the pretty blonde who was seating in front of him. Finally, after gulping back nearly half the cup at one go, he lifted his eyes to meet his Quinn's with a wide grin on his face. Intrigued, she raised a perfect eyebrow in a questioning gesture.

"Remember how I was telling you about the new patient in the Platinum Ward?"

"Yeah… the cute one?"

Sebastian rolling his eyes was all the confirmation that the blonde needed. A playful grin spread across her face. "What about him? Has our favourite Chief of Medicine got a thing for him?"

"Hardly." The brunette scoffed. "Well, kinda."

"Continue…"

"The patient's name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Anders-" Quinn's large green eyes widened in realization. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh' just about sums it up."

"Well," Straightening up in her seat, the doctor daintily smoothed out her skirt. "I see why he's pissed off this time. Good for you though, Bas, and good for him; he's got the best doctor in this damned place." She smiled.

"You flatter me too much, Quinnie." Sebastian smiled sincerely in reply "Can I walk you to paediatrics?"

"Why, I'd be honoured, Dr. Smythe!"

Laughing warmly, the two doctors straightened the stethoscopes around their necks and headed for the exit of the cafeteria, only to be stopped by someone tapping Sebastian's broad shoulder.

"Dr. Smythe?" an intern asked nervously, her eyebrows drawn together and light brown eyes wide. "I've got a note for you from one of your patients. He said his name was Blaine."

"Of course! Thank you, Ava." The girl looked surprised that Sebastian knew her name. She quietly excused herself after a muttered "It's no problem."

With deft fingers he unfolded the note and took in the neat, cursive blue writing before beginning to read. The smile on his face grew as his green eyes scanned over the small slip of paper before he burst out in a small chuckle.

_Dr. Smythe:_

_Of all the nurses that could have taken my blood sample, you sent Santana the Spitfire Senorita. (Yes, I am a fan of alliteration. Bite me.) This girl is amazing. The first thing she did when she was me was call me a young Burt Reynolds. I love Burt Reynolds. We've already decided that we're allies when the impending Zombie Apocalypse strikes._

_Anyway. I asked this nice intern named Ava to pass you this because I have to speak to you and frankly, the Doctors in my ward have been looking at me funny and I'm constantly checking if it's because I'm unconsciously turning into a lizard or something. Needless to say, I don't trust them enough and I'd rather speak to you directly. It's really no rush, I know you have other patients that require your attention more, but could you please stop by if you have a chance? My mum is still convinced that I am going to drop dead any second and I need you to reassure her that it's okay for her to go home and rest. She's sleeping in a rather uncomfortable position across the room as I write this. She almost looks like an Oompa Loompa._

_Blaine_

* * *

_**Author's Note**: Hi everyone!_

_So firstly - I know I've been MIA for a long, long time on all my stories. I'm in my second last year of high school and the exams and workload have been intense. As much as I love writing here Exams have been happening and there's no avoiding those. Deepest apologies for the lack of updates._

_More updates should be up soon between this story, Thick as Thieves and Along the Way. I really am trying._

_Now on to this story's notes!_

_For those of you Glee Project viewers... The characters of Jeremy, Carson and Ava were inspired by Blake, Michael and Nellie respectively. I know their characters may seem a tad out of place in this chapter but I intend on working them more into the story as it progresses._

_Thank you so, so much for reading and I really hoped you enjoyed this installment. Please leave a comment if you can - it means a lot (:_


	4. Chapter Three

Sebastian whistled softly to himself as he strode pointedly through the network of hallways in the executive wing. He exchanged a quick smile with several fellow doctors as they crossed paths, but there was no time to stop for a chat. He felt his phone go off with a message alert in his pocket, but rather than checking it, Sebastian merely sighed and ignored the incessant buzzing. He knew who the text would be from and he honestly was not going to ruin his current good mood by viewing it.

That could be dealt with later.

Reaching the ward which was currently homing one Blaine Anderson, Dr. Smythe felt his face light up with a genuine smile as the sound of playful banter reached his ears.

"… come on, you can't NOT have read any Harry Potter book. That's just about eighteen different types of sacrilege right there! And you say you're a fan just because you've seen two of the movies. Tsk. I'm disappointed in you, Santana. I thought what we had was something special, but obviously I thought wrong. Oh, hi Sebastian!"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson, Nurse Lopez. I do hope I'm not interrupting." Sebastian replied with a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Oh no, not at all! I was just telling Santana here about Hogwarts- How is it even humanly possible to not read a single Harry Potter novel?"

"Maybe because some of us spend every minute of our lives working our butts off to pay the rent." Santana pitched in. "Not all of us were born with a fucking diamond spoon in our mouth, Mr. Anderson."

At her comment, Blaine blushed in embarrassment and Sebastian couldn't help but stare at how adorable he looked with his cheeks and ears stained pink. "Oh. I'm sorry, Santana. That was incredibly insensitive of me and I-"

He was cut off mid-apology by the Latina nurse' laughter. "Calm yourself, Hobbit. I was just messing with you. I haven't read the series simply because I'm not a huge fan of reading. But I might get down to reading it sometime just for you." She patted him kindly on the arm. "Besides, you're cute when you're flustered." She winked.

"Gah… you… Langlock!"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh you'd understand what I meant if you actually read the novels." Blaine smiled innocently up at her.

Sebastian cleared his throat loudly. "Sorry, but I was under the impression that I was needed up here."

"Of course! Sorry, man. Nice speaking to you, Lady Slytherin. Kindly slither away to your Chamber of Secrets."

Santana rolled her eyes, but was unable to keep the smile off her face. "Finally, something I somewhat understand! I'll see you around, baby boy. We'll continue this then."

She grinned at Sebastian as she passed him in the doorway, a slight skip in her step as she checked her pager on the way out.

Blaine's optimism really was quite infectious.

"So…" The patient began.

"Don't think I haven't tried to use Langlock to shut her up before. I love that girl, but one day that mouth of hers is going to get her in some real trouble. And I don't mean that in a kinky sense. And do you honestly think that Santana Lopez deserves the credit of being compared to Tom Riddle – the Greatest Slytherin of all time?"

Blaine looked surprised at Sebastian's fluent Potterverse response. "Actually, I was implying that she was the Basilisk. But why do you say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is great? He's a fucking asshat!"

Sebastian just shrugged. It wasn't the first time he had been called out on for his support of Voldemort. "Say what you want, but you can't deny that the guy was brilliant. And I've always just seen him as more… misunderstood."

"Yeah, that and complete masochistic psycho." Blaine scoffed. "I'm guessing you identify yourself as a Slytherin, then?"

"Actually, a Hufflepuff." Sebastian replied, he voice dripping with amusement and sarcasm.

"What the hell's a Hufflepuff?"

Both Doctor and Patient burst out in a fit of laughter.

"Hey now, I happen to be a great finder."

"Wow, Dr. Smythe, I must say I'm impressed by your knowledge of both Harry Potter and Starkid Productions."

"Of course. Allow me to formally introduce myself – Sebastian L. Smythe, Slytherin House."

"Blaine E. Anderson, Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw – really?"

"Yes, really."

Sebastian shook his head. It was so easy getting carried away chatting to Blaine. "Anyway. I have your results here with me. And…"

Blaine's eyes lit up in thinly concealed nervous anticipation. "And?"

"Where's your mother?"

"I managed to convince her to go get herself a cup of coffee. She needed it."

"Ah."

"Go on."

"Now we can't explain why you had the seizure, but in all honesty, it could have been caused by a wide range of ailments. However, your stats were all normal and everything looks fine. Maybe, and hopefully, it was just an anomaly. We'll keep you posted if we get an explanation, but in any case you should be free to go within the next few hours."

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"'Thank God'?" Sebastian knew how it was a common expression, but curiosity got the better of him. "Are you religious?" he asked.

"Yes and no. I guess my family's Catholic on my Father's side, but I can't exactly practice a religion that supposedly isn't exactly supportive, of my ah… lifestyle choices."

The bitter way he spat out that last word made realisation dawn on Sebastian. He had witnessed too much of this irrational hate hands on in his own life. But not wanting to assume anything, he attempted to lighten the subject.

"You're not vegan, are you?" he mused, though his voice came out more frigid than he's hoped.

Blaine rolled his eyes good-naturedly regardless. "No. While an aversion to ice cream is a sin in itself, I reckon my father would be able to handle that. What Daddy dearest wouldn't, and doesn't, tolerate so much however, happens to be the fact that I am what he views as, and I quote, 'an embarrassment who needs to get over his disgusting phase of homosexuality'. I laugh because A) It's not in any case a 'phase' and B) It's not like I can or will change who I am just for him."

Blaine sounded off-handed and casual, yet Sebastian detected the tones of resentment and possibly even anger. His golden eyes had hardened, as if to block Sebastian out.

"Look, Blaine, I-"

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make this awkward but ungh. I guess I have and-"

"No no, it's fine." Sebastian quickly interjected. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. No one should have to deal with that, especially from your parents. It's just wrong."

"You wouldn't understand. But thank you, Sebastian."

"Oh trust me, I can empathise, probably better than anyone else in this place. And you're always welcome."

* * *

Blaine sank back into his hospital bed as he thought back on his conversation with his doctor. The conversation had gotten weird after he had accidentally let slip both his sexuality AND his Daddy issues in one breath.

"Jesus, Blaine. What's the fuck is wrong with you." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?"

Blaine jumped, his eyes flying open. "Mum! Ugh don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Sneak up on me! You gave me a fright!"

"Oh calm down, Sweetie. You don't always need to be this dramatic." Mrs. Anderson smiled fondly at her son. "Any news whilst I was gone?"

Blaine rolled his eyes but smiled warmly at his mother nonetheless. "Well, I did go to NYAA for a reason, you know." He noticed how she'd stiffened at the mention of his college, but the smile never left her face. "And Sebastian dropped by."

"Sebastian?"

"Oh um right. Doctor Smythe."

Selina Anderson raised a thin, arched eyebrow but otherwise made no further comment. Instead, she began fussing at the sheets at the foot of Blaine's bed. "What did he say?"

"That I… Mum, I don't know how to tell you this." Blaine chewed his lip, intentionally not meeting his mother's eyes as he bit back a smirk forming from her increasing agitation.

"What is it? Honey? Blaine! What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I… I can be discharged tomorrow." He declared solemnly.

In her panicked state, it took Mrs. Anderson several seconds to process that what she had just heard was good news. Blaine couldn't help but burst out in giggles as the realization and relief washed over his mother's features. His fit of hysterics, however, was short-lived as it was abruptly cut off with a muttered "ow" when she hit the back of his head with her soft leather purse.

"Don't. Don't pull that kind of crap with me." She scolded. "That was NOT funny."

"Come on, Mother," he chuckled, "it was a little funny."

He didn't miss the smile that tugged lightly at the edges of her lips.

* * *

Several hours later, Blaine was all set to go home. His things were packed and the hospital bed made in spite of Doctor St. James' insistence that it wasn't necessary since the staff would turn over the room promptly after his discharge anyway. But Blaine had folded the sheets and straightened the pillows anyway. He hated troubling others and always tidied up after himself; left no mess for others to clear. To him, it was simply basic manners.

He tried, much to St. James' horror, to locate Sebastian and Santana before he left. Unfortunately, they were both on shift and while he managed to give Nurse Lopez and hug and quick peck on the cheek, he had to settle for leaving Doctor Smythe a note at the reception.

As he exited the glass sliding doors of Midwestern Medical, his arm slung reassuringly around his mother's narrow shoulders, his mind was racing as it had been since his last conversation with his Sebastian: "_Trust me, I can empathise_." What was he referring to? Being gay? Having a problematic family background?

Blaine didn't know, but he sure wanted to find out.

* * *

**_Dear Sebastian_**

**_I'm sorry I couldn't catch you for a goodbye before I left. You are currently on shift, which is why I am scribbling this on a napkin while Santana is watching me write this with a weird smirk and as she breathes down my neck. It's creepy._**

**_Okay, she's gone now. Anyway I wanted to thank you for being awesome these past few days. You made a hospital stay bearable, so kudos._**

**_I was hoping we could be friends. Us Potterheads (nearly wrote 'Potheads'. Oops. Bahahaha) best stick together, eh? You may be a Slytherin (AND a Dark Lord worshipper), which is far from ideal, but I'm willing to look past that, my friend. _**

**_Stay in touch,_**

**_Blaine :D_**

**_987 654 3210 (just kidding, my real number's on the other side of this. TURN OVER.)_**

* * *

"TANA!" Sebastian bellowed "I KNOW you have the other sheet of the napkin with the number on it. HAND IT OVER. NOW."


End file.
